Sorrows
by Bratling
Summary: A one-shot set right after "The Comfort of Friends". What would have happened if Colleen and Rebecca had known about the miscarriage? A dare from GeneaLady...


Sorrows

by Bratling

Disclaimer: Not mine. I hugged them, squeezed them, called them George, and then gave them back like a good girl. Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman belongs to Beth Sullivan, CBS, and A&E.

Author's Note: This is all GeneaLady's fault. She dared me to do it. And, well, I can't resist a reasonable dare. This spins off canon after _The Comfort of Friends_... As far as we know, Colleen and Rebecca were never told about the baby or the miscarriage... but what if they were? The challenge sentence is, **"How can I miss someone so much, that I've never met? " **It'll be highlighted in bold. My thanks to my beta reader, Wendy Scott. (Since it was her dare, I gave GeneaLady a sneak peek, too)

* * *

___"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love. "_

___**-Washington Irving**_

* * *

Brian and Matthew climbed the stairs to the homestead. Brian had set the horses loose in the paddock while Matthew gathered Katie and their things from the wagon. They'd seen Miss Grace and Miss Dorothy come back to the Founder's Day celebration right before they'd left, so chances were their ma was alone in the house. Brian opened the door and they walked inside. Their mother was sitting at the kitchen table, resting her head on her hand. The boys exchanged a concerned glance as they caught sight of her tearstained face. Working together, it didn't take long for the brothers to settle Katie on a blanket with some toys and join their mother at the table. Brian sat down beside her and hugged her. "Are you all right, Ma?" he asked softly.

She gave them both a wan smile. "I'll be all right," she said. "It's just your father doesn't know, and I sent Colleen a telegram to tell her about the baby, and she doesn't know, either." Slowly, she wrapped her arms around Brian and hugged him back.

Matthew and Brian exchanged another glance, silently communicating with each other. "I'll go send Colleen a telegram," he offered.

"You don't have to," She said in a somewhat unsteady voice. "I'll write her a letter."

"Yes, I do," Matthew said firmly. "We lost a member of our family, Ma - Colleen needs to know."

Michaela's head shot up at his use of the title. Matthew knew he rarely used it, but somehow, it seemed right at the moment. He had been fifteen when Charlotte died and convinced that he was an adult and knew everything. He'd figured he didn't need another mother. Time and experience had proven his fifteen-year-old self wrong. His natural mother had chosen wisely; in his heart, Dr. Mike was just as much his mother as Charlotte was. "All right," she murmured. "Go on ahead."

Matthew nodded, and then reached down to hug her fiercely He kissed her forehead and then left, heading towards the barn. It took a matter of minutes for him to saddle Scout and ride towards town. His heart hurt. Not just for the baby brother or sister they'd lost, but for his mother. Sully wasn't around, and part of him was angry with him for abandoning their family, when his mother had just been through something terrible. And Sully wasn't there. Matthew had heard Brian crying over that at night more than once since he'd moved back home, and his mother losing the baby made it even worse; in some ways, it was unforgivable.

Matthew couldn't help but compare Sully to Ethan. He was fairly sure that Sully hadn't meant to choose the Indians over the family, but no matter what he had intended, that was the end result. And he had lied to all of them to do it. However, he treated Dr. Mike and the rest of them much better than Ethan ever had. It was hard to figure out what had happened but somehow, they'd fix it so he could come home where he belonged. Until then, it was up to him and Colleen and Brian to take care of their mother and Katie. He knew Dr. Mike, and she would try and take care of everyone and everything while neglecting herself.

He barely noticed the scenery as he rode past it, only bothering to keep a watch for dog soldiers and the army. It wasn't long before he arrived back in town, and it only took a few minutes to arrive at the depot and tie his horse to a hitching post. Quickly, he walked inside. "Horace?" he called, not seeing the man.

Horace came out of the back, wiping his hands on a towel. "Hey Matthew," he said casually as he tossed the towel on the counter. "What can I do for ya? Is your ma all right?"

"She will be," Matthew said. "I need ta send a telegram - no, make that two."

Horace reached for a notepad. "Go on ahead," he said encouragingly.

"First one's for Colleen." Matthew took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn't know what to do but be blunt about it. "Say... Dear Colleen, Ma lost the baby. Thought you should know. Love, Matthew."

Horace finished writing it down. "Are ya sure ya wanna do it like that, Matthew? It's awful blunt."

.

Matthew pulled his hands out of his pockets and spread them wide. "Is there a right way to do it, Horace? 'Cause I don't know how. Dr. Mike's tryin' ta put on a strong front, but..."

Horace sighed. "I don't know," he said. "What about the next one?"

"The next one is for Aunt Rebecca," Matthew leaned on the counter.

"I got the address, just like for Colleen," Horace said.

Matthew simply nodded. "Dear Aunt Rebecca, Please write to Ma. She just had a miscarriage and we know she probably won't tell you. Love, Matthew, Colleen, Brian, and Katie." He put the money for the telegrams on the counter.

"Hell of a way to get news of something like this," Horace said as he took the money and moved to the telegraph.

"Can't be helped," Mathew said with a shrug. "'Sides, don't people get lots of bad news by telegram?"

"I guess." Horace finished sending the first telegram and started on the second. "I'll bring out any response as soon as I get 'em - probably tomorrow."

"Thanks, Horace," Matthew stuffed his hands back in his pockets and left. He had to go home to take care of his family. Because right now, he was the only one who could.

* * *

Rebecca drew her needle though the fabric, carefully stitching vines and flowers on the comforter she was embroidering. She stitched another vine and then started to add the satin-stitched leaves to it. She was over half done, and it had taken months to get as far as she had. In another six months, or a year, perhaps, she would finish it. At any rate, it was a long-term project. Edward, the butler, walked in, and presented her with a tray. "This just came for you, Ma'am," he said.

Rebecca picked up the paper from the tray and read it quickly, then paled. "Edward, please have the carriage brought around for me," she ordered. There was a lot to do. She had to go see Richard, buy her ticket, make a few arrangements for her absence, send a telegram ahead to let Matthew know she was coming... Laying aside her embroidery, she stood and rang for her maid. The girl appeared a few minutes later. "Fiona, please have my trunk brought down from the attic and pack enough clothing and such for two weeks."

"Yes, Ma'am," the girl said. "Where might you be going?"

Rebecca's face was set. Michaela needed much more than a letter. "Colorado Springs."

* * *

Matthew paced back and forth on the train platform. He'd received telegrams from both Colleen and his Aunt Rebecca. Colleen's had said that she was in the middle of midterm examinations, and would be there as soon as she could, while Aunt Rebecca's had said she'd be on the next train. Both had said he was to take care of Dr. Mike. Oddly enough, that meant they would be there at approximately the same time - Colleen's train would be there ten minutes before Aunt Rebecca's.

It seemed forever before the train pulled into the station and Colleen disembarked. "Matthew!" she called as she hurried over. "Is Ma all right?" she asked anxiously.

"I ain't sure," he said hesitantly. "Sometimes she is and sometimes she ain't."

Colleen was carrying a small valise and a carpet bag. "I wish I could stay longer," she said softly. "But I only have a few days before I have to be back at school."

"Glad you're here," Matthew took her carpetbag from her and set it down. "Aunt Rebecca's gonna be on the next train."

"She is?" Colleen put her valise down. "Is Grandma coming, too?"

"Don't know. I don't even know if she knows about Dr. Mike." Matthew took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair.

They waited in silence and it wasn't long until the train from Saint Louis steamed into the depot. Aunt Rebecca disembarked, and her trunk was off loaded. "Matthew! Colleen!" Rebecca hugged both of them. "So grown up!" she stood back to look at them. "Now, where is your mother?" she asked briskly.

"She's at the clinic, Aunt Rebecca," Matthew said as he loaded her trunk into the wagon. "But she don't know either one of you is comin'. I thought I could take you two out to the homestead, and we could surprise her." He put Colleen's valise and carpetbag in the back as well, and then helped the women into the wagon.

"I suppose that would be all right," Rebecca said.

Matthew slapped the reigns on the horses' backs and they headed down the road towards the homestead. He stopped at the checkpoint in front of their house and allowed the soldiers to search the wagon - it was easier to allow it than to fight it. He hauled the luggage inside, put the wagon and horses away and strode into the house. Once the door was shut behind them, the questioning began.

"How is your mother?" Rebecca asked anxiously as she paced back and forth in front of the banked fire.

"She _says_ she's fine, but sometimes me and Brian can hear her crying at night," Matthew admitted. "She's pretendin' everything's all right, if ya ask me."

Both Rebecca and Colleen nodded, being familiar with Michaela's propensity to ignore her problems and needs in favor of focusing on other people. "Right." Rebecca pursed her lips and glanced around the room. Matthew was suddenly conscious of the fact that the room wasn't as clean as his mother liked to keep it. He and Brian been trying to help but had skipped the corners entirely. "It should be time to fix supper fairly soon but until then, we should clean up a little for your mother."

"It ain't bad, it's just-" Matthew started to protest.

"It's not how Ma likes to keep it," Colleen said quietly. "It isn't usually like this, Aunt Rebecca."

"I know," she said. "Why don't you and I set the room to rights?"

Colleen nodded and the two women put on aprons and got to work. Matthew went out to the barn to take care of the animals. Soon, he hoped, his mother would feel better and things would return to normal.

* * *

The children were all in bed, even Matthew and Colleen. Michaela had been surprised to find them at the homestead, and it had been something of a tearful reunion on her part, but she was grateful that for a few days, at least, all her children were safe under the same roof. Her sister was a different matter. Michaela had sent Matthew to get a cot from the clinic, and they'd set it up in what was to be Katie's room. She sighed as she dried the last plate and put it away. Rebecca was sitting in one of the chairs next to the fire. She had wanted to talk, but Michaela had put her off. With a soft sigh, she made her way over to her sister. Rebecca had pushed the chairs close together.

"Come and sit with me, Mike," Rebecca patted the other chair.

"Why are you here?" Michaela asked softly as she obediently sat down in the other wingback chair.

"How could I not come?" Rebecca asked softly. "Matthew sent me a telegram asking me to write and telling me what you'd been through." She stood up and hugged Michaela tightly. "Mother was so sick when you were born. Father had to have a wet nurse in to feed you, but I refused to let a nanny take care of you most of the time. In many ways, you were _my baby_."

Michaela felt the tears she'd worked so hard to suppress welling up in her eyes and her throat tightened. "But you didn't have to-" She ruthlessly suppressed her tears.

"Yes, I did." Rebecca kissed the top of her head. "I know what you're going through, Little One."

"I know," Michaela said softly. "You lost Jack..."

"I'm not speaking of Jack, Michaela." Rebecca released her and perched on the arm of the chair. "Did you know I had two miscarriages?" she asked softly.

Michaela looked over at her sister, shocked. "No, I didn't," she murmured as she tried to force down her tears, still determined not to give in.

"One before Elsie and one before Edward, and I felt like no one understood." Rebecca reached out and took her sister's hand. "_I_ understand Little One. Let _me_ help."

It was true that Grace and Dorothy had offered their support, but somehow this was different. Rebecca was the only other woman in her family who had ever even tried to understand her; the sister she'd always been closest to. With hindsight, she realized it must have hurt her mother when she wanted her father or Rebecca when she was small instead of her mother. Michaela got up and hugged Rebecca, who held her close and stroked her hair. "Tell me," she said softly.

**"How can I miss someone so much, that I've never met? " **Michaela's voice was choked, and tears started to roll down her cheeks.

"Because the moment you realized you were with child, you couldn't help but love that baby," Rebecca murmured. "You have the biggest heart of anyone I know, Little One." She rocked Michaela back and forth a little.

"I could see him, Rebecca," her breath caught in a sob. "He had Sully's hair and my smile. I saw him all grown up, so tall and strong like his brothers."

Rebecca kept rocking, humming a song that Michaela had almost forgotten. She simply held her and listened while she talked and wiped the tears away as she cried. She told her sister everything; the whole nightmare from start to finish. How the army was still searching for Sully. How he had almost died and still couldn't come home. How hurt and even angry she was that he had lied to her and the children and chosen the Indians over them. She admitted she didn't think he meant for what happened to happen, but it still made her feel like they weren't as important to him as he claimed. And then losing the baby when she'd barely even known about him.

Rebecca didn't offer solutions or advice. Instead, she comforted Michaela, letting her know she wasn't alone and she was loved. Michaela cried herself out, allowing herself to lean on her sister - to lean on a strength outside herself. Even with her friends, there was still a reserve. Not so with her sister. Rebecca had never judged, never lectured. Since she was small, her sister had offered her nothing but unconditional love. And she needed that. Finally, when she was exhausted and could cry no more, Rebecca simply blotted her cheeks with a handkerchief. "Let's put you to bed," she said quietly.

Michaela followed her sister upstairs and for once, reveled in the feeling of being the one who was taken care of rather than the caretaker. She made no objection as her sister helped her change into her nightclothes, brushed out her hair, and tucked her into bed.

It was a beginning.

For the next week, Rebecca stayed, simply being there and helping with the house, with the children, and even with the patients at the clinic. She was there to help reassure the children, there to help talk to Colleen and to see Michaela's eldest daughter off to school, there when Michaela needed to cry or yell, there to give her the comfort and reassurance she needed. By the time Rebecca's train was scheduled to leave for Saint Louis, Michaela had begun to heal. As the train pulled into the depot, Michaela hugged her sister, hard. "Thank you," she murmured.

Rebecca simply smiled and hugged her back. "You're welcome, Little One," she said. She pressed a kiss to Michaela's forehead. "I'll come back to visit soon," she promised before boarding the train.

Michaela waved until the train chugged out of sight, and then slowly walked back to the clinic. For the first time since the miscarriage, she felt hopeful that somehow, things would work out, and it would be all right.

End.


End file.
